


lycanthropy

by artemis_west



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Fluff and Smut, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Knotting, M/M, Mates, Mating, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis_west/pseuds/artemis_west
Summary: When Achilles first told me what he was, I laughed in disbelief. It was just another joke, one of the many good-natured tricks he liked to play on me. But his eyes were serious, his sunlit face set in stone. I ceased laughing and stared at him.“You are not lying,” I said. He had never lied to me in all the years we had known each other - by now it had been nearly a decade, though it seemed so much longer.“No, Patroclus,” Achilles said, his voice rasping like grains of sand. “Never.”My mind tried to conjure up the image - the full moon high in the sky, Achilles changing, shifting, beast overtaking man. As a wolf I thought he might have a golden coat to match the sun that lived within him. If not gold, then he would be pure white, shining like the moon.“Show me,” I said.





	lycanthropy

**Author's Note:**

> my first tsoa fic which is surprising because it's my favorite book in all the land
> 
> honestly this was just an excuse to write knotting so uhhhhhh enjoy

I had heard the legends, but I had never believed them. Men turning into wolves, wolves turning into men. Bedtime stories to unsettle children, campfire tales to amuse soldiers. The gods above were real as anything, but this? This could not be true.

I was foolish. The gods were more than capable of making such stories fact.

 

*

 

When Achilles first told me what he was, I laughed in disbelief. It was just another joke, one of the many good-natured tricks he liked to play on me. But his eyes were serious, his sunlit face set in stone. I ceased laughing and stared at him.

“You are not lying,” I said. He had never lied to me in all the years we had known each other - by now it had been nearly a decade, though it seemed so much longer.

“No, Patroclus,” Achilles said, his voice rasping like grains of sand. “Never.”

My mind tried to conjure up the image - the full moon high in the sky, Achilles changing, shifting, beast overtaking man. As a wolf I thought he might have a golden coat to match the sun that lived within him. If not gold, then he would be pure white, shining like the moon.

“Show me,” I said.

 

*

 

We left the palace at night, when we would not be discovered. There was a grove of trees we often liked to spend our time in, and he took me there. He stood before me, skin glowing by the light of Selene. It was quiet, peaceful. The beach was nearby, and we could hear waves cresting softly on the shore.

“Do not be frightened,” Achilles told me, his face beseeching, pleading.

“Of you?” I asked, smile playing at my lips. “Never.”

He smiled back at me, and all the world was warm and bright. He closed his eyes and tilted his face towards the sky.

“When I am a wolf, I am still me,” he assured me, his voice soft. “Partly, anyway. I will recognize you. I will have baser instincts, and I may growl at you. But if you stay, if you reach out your hand to me, I will not bite.” He opened his eyes and looked at me again. “I always know you. When you are sleeping, I come out here to shift and run and hunt. I am more animal than man, but there is a part of me that always keeps your face in my mind. It keeps me tethered to this life, to my humanity. Without it, I fear I might be lost.”

My chest swelled, and my heart felt painfully full. I could not contain it all. How I loved him. I had not told him, not in so many words, but it was always there, lingering on the edge of every interaction between us.

“How . . . .” I asked, my question caught on my tongue. “How did you become this?” And how long had he been able to hide it from me? From his father? Or did Peleus know? Did the guards? The other boys in the castle? The servants?

But no, I thought. The halls would be running rampant with word of it. The entire kingdom would know. Only Achilles and Peleus must know, then. And now me.

“I was not born with it,” Achilles said. “It was . . . an accident. I was walking at night, while you were sleeping. I was restless.”

I nodded. He was often restless, thinking about things I could only guess at. His fate, prophecies, wars. Sometimes he would talk and tell me of them, and I would listen always. But sometimes he kept things from me - I think because he did not want to burden me.

“I was distracted,” Achilles went on. His hand came to rest on a spot near his hip, and he rubbed it. “I did not hear the wolf. I had taken a step too near its den, where her cubs lay. She attacked and bit me. I fought her off, but at that point her teeth had already ripped through my flesh.”

My heart lurched again, with sorrow this time. The thought of him in pain made me ache. He could have died, and that thought struck me cold as ice. I could not fathom a world without him.

“I was not afraid,” Achilles said, a faint smile on his face. His face was lost in the memory. “I knew I was not fated to die then. Artemis appeared to me. I don’t know if my mother begged her to intercede or if this, too, was written by the Fates, but she came to me when I was lying on the ground, blood spilling from my side. She said, ‘You are changed, now. I will teach you the ways of the hunt.’ She knelt and touched my wound, and the blood stopped.” Achilles looked at me, his eyes glittering wild, and for a moment I felt his emotions mirrored in me - excitement, exhilaration. “The goddess said, ‘This will hurt. You must have something to anchor you, so that you do not lose yourself to the beast.’ And the first thing I thought of was your face.”

I blushed, my heart flying in my chest. Achilles smiled.

“It did hurt, at first,” he continued on, his face changing as he remembered his pain. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to hold him close. “My bones shifted in my body, and my skin tore like paper. I felt burning, like I was standing in the forge of Hephaestus and drowning in the heat of Apollo all at once. I screamed, and later I was shocked that no one heard and came running. Lady Artemis must have made sure we would not be disturbed.

“She was there beside me, coaxing me, guiding me through the change. ‘Keep hold of your anchor,’ she said, and I made sure to keep your face steady in my mind. I remember the last word I spoke before I was a wolf. It was your name. I opened my eyes and looked up at the moon and stars and gasped out, ‘ _Patroclus._ ’”

Every part of me felt trembling and fragile, as if I was there, transported into that night. The way he said my name set me shivering. My skin felt hot, my limbs like melting wax. My heart beat fast as a bird’s wings in my chest.

Achilles looked at me with such depth in his eyes. The intensity of his gaze kept me rooted to the spot.

“I transformed, and then I hunted with the goddess. When the sun rose, she taught me how to change back, and I returned to bed in our room. You never woke.”

I shook my head, in awe of his words. “When?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“Fifteen nights ago,” he said. “Lady Artemis has been back every night to teach me more. She tells me I am adapting well to my new form.” He smiled proudly, and I could not help but smile back. Of course he would be proud of this, too. It was another accomplishment to add to his growing list.

“Does your father know?” I asked, already suspecting the answer. Achilles nodded.

“We are the only three. Lady Artemis says it must remain a secret. My mother knows, of course, and the gods. But it cannot be revealed to anyone else.”

“I will not say a word,” I promised. I felt honored to be trusted with such a secret. I would carry it close to my chest for the rest of my days.

Achilles tilted his face to the sky again, breathing in the air. “Would you like to see now?”

I breathed. “Yes.”

In one swift movement, he stripped off his tunic. My eyes widened, and I glanced down before I could think, my thoughts fleeing my head. Achilles grinned at me, cocky and confident.

And then he howled.

 

*

 

It was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful.

His coat was tawny as his hair and skin, and his eyes gleamed in his face, the only thing still human about him. They were the same color, and they fixed on me.

He was the size of a normal wolf. I had expected him to be bigger.

He stood before me, teeth bared, back arched, haunches raised. I lost my breath, but I was not afraid. Never of him, even in this form.

I crouched slowly, and my knees hit the earth. I held out my hand.

“Achilles,” I said, softly.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, and he took a step toward me on large paws. His claws punctured the dirt beneath him, and I marveled at the prints he left behind. I kept my hand outstretched, my arm steady despite my tripping heart.

His nose bumped my hand. It was wet and cold, but I did not flinch. Achilles closed his eyes and sniffed my skin, and he rumbled, not threateningly, but pleasantly, as if he recognized my scent and found it comforting. I gasped when he turned his snout and rubbed his head against my hand. His fur was not coarse, as I thought it would be, but surprisingly soft, running like silk over my fingers.

I pet him as if I would an old childhood dog. He seemed to like it, leaning into me, his tongue lolling out of his sharp mouth. His teeth could rip me apart at a moment’s notice, I knew. But I had no reason to fear that. He knew me.

I smiled, and his tail wagged. I laughed.

 

*

 

For a long time, we kept this secret together. At night, I would join him in the trees, and he would run and hunt and gather while I watched, amazed by his fluid movements. He was as graceful as a wolf as he was as a man, lithe and strong. He was just as swift-footed, and even faster when he was a wolf. We would sit by the beach, and I would lean against his muscled body, his fur keeping me warm against the night breeze. We would always return to bed together when Achilles shifted back, and he would talk endlessly and enthusiastically about how it felt to be a wolf.

I never envied him - I did not think I was meant for a gift like that, and I did not mind. It was enough to watch Achilles revel in it.

He had his meetings with Lady Artemis still, but I never saw her. I sat in meetings with Achilles and Peleus, and Peleus would listen as his son described how it felt to run on four legs, to feel his paws hitting the earth, to howl at the moon.

We were happy in the palace. Content and peaceful, warm with each other’s company.

We sat on the beach one night, sixteen years old. He was human now, his hair wild and hanging around his face, his torso bare. I sat beside him, my arm brushing his. The night felt charged with something - it had been different between us since he shared his secret with me, in a way I could not name. I had always been intensely aware of him, but now there was an added element to our friendship that draped over us like a blanket. During the nights, we would draw close together, limbs tangling and skin brushing, always when Achilles initiated it. He was more physical as a wolf, and he liked to be near me, to rub against me, as if he was marking me with his scent. I knew little of the behaviors of wolves, but this seemed like a natural instinct. It made me blush, but I never protested.

Now he pressed against me, insistently, and I turned my head to look at him as I often did. I would find myself lost in the planes of his face. He was looking at me, too, his eyes dark with something I could not name, almost like hunger.

He seemed to be waiting for something, patient as he watched me. My breath caught and held in my chest.

“Achilles,” I said, the name barely above a whisper. I felt my heart crowding against my ribcage, beating fast and hard.

He raised his hand to tuck one of my curls behind my ear. His touch left a trail of warmth over my face, and I closed my eyes. My lips parted of their own accord.

I do not know if it was he who leaned forward or I, but in the next breath our lips were pressing together, brushing over each other softly. I reached out to touch him, and one of my hands fell to his golden hair while the other grasped futilely at the sand beneath me, clenching into a fist. I felt Achilles whisper my name against my lips, and it sounded reverent, as if he were praying to a god.

He deepened the embrace, his tongue sliding into my mouth like honey. I felt his teeth on my lower lip and gasped, my hand tightening in his hair. His own hands roved over my body, touching me like I had not been touched before. The sensation was something I would never forget. He touched me as if he were a sculptor, shaping me out of clay.

When he pulled away, his eyes blown wide, I bared my neck to him, and he made a desperate, keening sound that shot through my skin as if I had been struck by Zeus’ thunderbolt.

His skin was flushed and beautiful in the moonlight, and I was sure mine was the same. He still held onto me, and I did not know if I was capable of letting go of him.

With my neck still bared, he leaned forward and kissed it, gently at first, so light that I felt it like a butterfly’s wings against my skin. My pulse jumped where his lips pressed, and I whispered, “More,” and he gasped against my neck before he obliged, marking me with his teeth and tongue.

We were sixteen and young and eager for this, for any part of each other we could have. I wondered if it would be different if he were still human, unchanged by the wolf.

I thought it might be, but eventually, it would still lead to this. Everything would lead to this, in every lifetime. It might have been wishful thinking in my young mind, but I thought our souls were meant for each other.

When we finally pulled away from each other, lips plush and swollen, skin damp with sweat as if we had been training, Achilles laughed breathlessly. I found myself laughing with him.

“Come,” he said, taking my hand. “Let’s run.” His eyes were bright and glittering, and I knew he needed it.

We stood from our spot on the sand and ran.

He kept pace with me by my side.

 

*

 

When Thetis came two days later and announced that Achilles was to train with the great centaur Chiron in the mountains, I felt my heart fall to my stomach. But I did not let myself mourn.

When he left, I followed, not thinking of anything else but him. My golden wolf. I did not care what Thetis said, what she thought - it did not matter. Achilles and I were bound to each other. I felt it running deep in my veins, and I knew he felt it too.

I caught up to him in the mountains eventually. He found me in the trees, and he pushed me against the trunk of one and kissed me, his hands cupping my face, his body pressed tight against mine.

“I would have come back for you before long,” he said into my mouth. “I could not ever leave you behind.”

We tumbled in the grass, rolling and wrestling with each other, and he shifted. Suddenly it was not a man on top of me but a wolf, mouth open in an animalistic grin. Achilles licked me, and I laughed and tried to shove him away. He was happy. So was I. Nothing could keep us apart, not now.

Chiron found us in the clearing, and we were humbled immediately. We kept our eyes averted, embarrassed in the presence of one so great as he. We had both heard the stories about him.

“Thetis told me what you were,” Chiron said, nodding at Achilles, who was still a wolf. “I am ashamed to say I almost did not believe it.” Then he turned his gaze to me, and I blushed. But the centaur smiled. “You must be Patroclus. Rise, both of you.”

I stood, and Achilles transformed back into human, picking up his discarded tunic from the ground. He slipped it back on and bowed respectfully to Chiron. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, Master Chiron.”

My eyes widened, and I looked at Achilles questioningly. He took my hand and smiled. He had not joined Chiron yet, I realized. He had been waiting for me here, knowing I would come.

“No matter,” Chiron said. “Thetis told me you might be delayed. She did not seem very happy about it.”

Achilles frowned at the ground, and I squeezed his hand. He stepped closer to me, and I wanted to bury my head in his shoulder, to comfort him, but I did not. Chiron watched us.

“Come,” he said then, turning around. “We must begin our training.”

 

*

 

Time on the mountain was slow, and our days passed happily. We were more content than we had been in the palace, perhaps because we had much more time to ourselves. We were alone for long hours, and in stolen moments, Achilles and I would be together, learning the curves and edges of each other’s bodies. I learned just how possessive he was as a wolf, though there was no one else on the mountain to spark his jealousy. It was in his movements, the way he watched me, how he treated me, how he touched me and held me when we lay together. A day did not go by when my skin was not covered in his marks. At first I tried to hide them from Chiron, embarrassed, but then I wore them like badges of honor. Achilles was never ashamed; he was proud and smug.

Chiron was knowledgeable about wolves, and told us things that made me blush to know. Achilles said Lady Artemis had only taught him how to hunt and survive; she had not told him of other primal instincts, other urges he might have.

“You are his mate,” Chiron said, nodding to me as I sat side-by-side with Achilles near the fire we had built. Chiron stoked the flames, cooking our evening meal.

“But I am human,” I said, a blush rising to my cheeks. Achilles had one arm around me, holding me close. I was practically in his lap, but he refused to let up on his grip.

“Such things do not matter,” Chiron explained. “Mates are for life, and are chosen by instinct. You are bound together now, and that bond will surpass everything else. When you consummate the relationship, it will become even more intense than what you already feel. It will be difficult not to be consumed by it, but it will also make things easier.”

I blushed madly at the mention of consummating the relationship. We had been together in many ways, Achilles and I, except for that.

I was not nervous - in fact I burned and pulsed with how much I wanted it - but to be discussing it so openly was strange to me. I looked at the ground, but Achilles nuzzled my cheek, his lips tracing over my ear.

“It’s alright,” he said, his arm around me. “We do not have to rush. Only when you are ready.”

He was not embarrassed, and neither was Chiron. I took a deep breath and let go of my apprehension. How could I be anything other than comforted when Achilles surrounded me? I felt safe with him, protected. I ached with desire for him. And he had never been shy about how much he wanted me. I felt honored and undeserving of such affection from him, despite all his attempts to show me how worthy I was.

We reached manhood on the mountain, two years passing in slow, syrupy stretches of time. I knew that in all my life I would never be happier than I was during our days with Chiron. We were watched, of course, by Thetis and the other gods, but that never seemed to matter when we were together. During the day, we trained with Chiron. At night, Achilles shifted and I ran with him. In our free time, he was a wolf, splashing in the river and goading me into playing with him. We slept side-by-side always, sometimes as humans, curled against each other and wrapped in each other’s arms, and sometimes with Achilles as a wolf, his coat a warm blanket in the winter.

One night, late into the evening, Chiron excused himself from the cave where we stayed. He liked to walk the mountain paths at night on his own, reading the stars and gathering things from the forest. When he was gone, Achilles and I finished our late meal in comfortable silence. And then, with lidded eyes, Achilles gestured me to our bed.

We shared one pallet covered in furs and animal skins, and we always slept together. Neither of us wanted it any other way. But the look on Achilles’s face now made me tremble. He had been watching me this way all day - when we splashed together naked in the river, his hands had mapped my body, his touch a desperate, wanting caress. I knew what he desired. Since that night over the fire when Chiron had first spoken the word ‘mate,’ it had been like this between us, heady and all-consuming. But Achilles had never pushed for more than what I was willing to give. Despite how much I craved it, I was always nervous when we were together intimately. But he was slow with me, gentle. The first time I had taken his fingers inside me, I had cried, and Achilles kissed each of my cheeks, whispering to me that I was alright, that he had me, that he would keep me safe. Then, afterwards, he offered himself to me and took my own fingers inside him. The way he had writhed under my touch and the press of my fingers had made me feel like I was soaring high above the clouds.

He did this often, always letting me reciprocate what I was given, and it helped me feel more confident, more assured in what we were doing. The first time I sucked his cock, he held my head gently, asking me to look at him. When our eyes met, he said, “My Patroclus,” in a broken, whispered voice, and then he’d spilled inside my mouth. He’d kissed the remnants of his seed from my face, and then he’d fallen to his knees in front of me. He took my cock in his mouth with a moan that made me shudder, and he went slowly, carefully, until I was crying out his name.

 _I like this_ , he said when we were together. _This and this and this._ He would draw out my pleasure, and I would revel in finding his. _Show me again,_ I would say. _Tell me what you want me to do._

The closest we had ever come to full intercourse was on the night when we were laying in bed together after we had both found release from each other’s fingers, and Achilles lay behind me, his body warm against my back. He had bitten my ear and asked me a question, and then he’d slipped his red and dripping cock between my thighs. He had thrust his hips against me and reached his hand around my waist to stroke me, his lips latching onto my neck. He growled sometimes when he was in the throes of pleasure, and sometimes his teeth grew sharper, his fingernails changing into claws. But he was careful never to hurt me. It had been happening more often as the days went on, as things lead up to the day we would actually mate. It was more intense when the moon was rounder, and Achilles’s eyes would glow hotly.

I did not know why I hadn’t said the words yet, why I hadn’t told him I wanted him to take me. Perhaps I was worried, nervous from the words Chiron had said to us on that night months ago - a wolf chose a mate for life. Back then I had not been nervous at all. I remembered the way I had pulsed with desire. But the more I thought about it, the more it began to bother me.

There was nothing more I wanted than to spend the rest of my life with my Achilles. I would never choose another, and there would never be anyone else like him for me. But I wondered if he would not meet someone better than I was. We both knew that I was not a fighter, not a soldier. When he was inevitably called away to war, I would follow, but there would not be much I could do in the ways of battle. Chiron had said a wolf’s mate was chosen by instinct, and I wondered what instinct had driven Achilles to choose me. From what I knew of wolves, the strongest mate was often the wisest choice, and I knew I would never be considered the strongest among anyone.

Part of me still could not believe Achilles wanted me this way. No one else had ever looked at me twice, and if they had, it had been with derision and ridicule. But Achilles had never treated me with anything other than tenderness.

Achilles held out his hand to me now, a smile on his face. Chiron would not be back for some time - when he left the cave, he did not often come back until sunrise. I took Achilles’s hand and let him pull me up, leading me to our bed. He could see that I was shaking, and he took me in his arms, kissing my hair.

“It’s alright, love,” he told me gently, his arms tight around me. “If you still wish to wait, we can. I will not force you. Never.”

“No,” I whispered, leaning my head back so I could meet his gaze. I brushed my hand against his cheek, and he closed his eyes, his lips parting under my touch. “I want you. More than anything.”

He grinned then, so bright and beautiful, and my heart tripped over itself. I smiled back, but Achilles could see the spark of doubt in my eyes, no matter how I tried to hide it.

“Then what is it?” he asked, brushing his thumb over my lips. “Tell me, love, and we will fix it together.”

I looked away from him, my eyes fixing on his collarbone, where I had left my own mark on him not long ago. As much as he liked to mark me, he let me bruise him, too. We were equals, always. It did not matter that he was a wolf and I would never be.

I brushed my fingers over the fading bruise on his collar. “This will be for life,” I whispered. “Once it happens, we will be - it will be permanent, will it not?”

He stilled against me, body tensing. I pulled back, sensing he was angry. A low growl escaped his throat, and I backed against the bed, away from him. But he followed me. He gripped my arms - rough, but not hard enough to hurt - and nudged his knee between my legs, forcing my chin up to meet his eyes once again. His irises were blazing, his teeth sharp.

“Patroclus,” he growled, and the way he said my name made me shiver. “You must know by now that I don’t want - I have _never_ wanted anyone else. And there will never _be_ anyone else. You are the only one. My love. My mate.” His eyes flashed with it.

“But - ” I tried to speak, but he crushed his lips to mine, stealing the breath from my mouth.

“No,” he said against my lips, biting down gently with his teeth. “None of that. I will hear no more of this from you. I _love_ you, Patroclus. You are mine. I am yours.”

He kissed me, reaching down between us to grip my cock until I moaned into his mouth, and it was only then that he pulled back. He watched me, waiting for me to say something. He was breathing heavily, as was I. Our cocks were both stiff, pressing against each other where our bodies were aligned. I could barely think.

I tried to catch my breath, and I closed my eyes so it would be easier to say the words. “I just worry that there is a better mate for you, somewhere in the world. I do not want you to regret your choice. To regret me.” I hated saying the words, knowing how they hurt us both, but I could not stop myself from voicing my insecurities.

Achilles made a pained sound, and when I opened my eyes, there was a tear falling down his cheek.

“Patroclus,” he whispered, his voice cracking. It was so different from the rough, forceful tone he had taken only moments before, and my heart nearly broke inside my chest. “How could you ever think that?” He shook his head, leaning forward until our foreheads met. He closed his eyes and pulled me even closer. “It is not a _choice,_ Patroclus. Not with you. You are enough. You will always be enough. You are more than what I ever could have hoped for.”

The words lifted me, and I thought how foolish I had been to think that my love for Achilles was not returned in equal measure. I had always been his. He had always been mine.

“I love you,” I breathed, cupping his face between my hands. “Achilles, I love you.”

His arms wrapped around me as he pressed his lips to mine again, and he lifted me up, laying me gently down on our bed of furs. He kissed my jaw, my throat, across my neck and back up the side of my face again, until his mouth was at my ear and he nipped at me hungrily.

“Be with me,” he groaned. “Be my mate, Patroclus.”

“Yes,” I whispered, arching against him. “Yes.”

He sucked at my neck and rutted against me, and I clutched at his hair, pulled at his tunic. Achilles reached out blindly, fumbling for the jar of oil we kept nearby. He coated his fingers in it and nudged my legs apart, and I opened for him instantly, without hesitation. With one hand he pressed his fingers inside me, rubbing slowly around my rim to relax me before he pushed inside. His other hand splayed across my chest, thumb brushing my nipple, pinching and twisting until I cried out with pleasure. When my chest was sensitive and raw, Achilles’s hand snaked between us, finding my aching cock. He squeezed me once, swallowing my moan.

“Shh, love,” he soothed as he kissed me softly, gently. “It’s alright. I will take care of you.”

He slid down until his lips were level with my cock, and he kept his fingers inside me as he took me in his mouth. When he crooked his fingers, I moaned again, and when he flicked his tongue against my slit, I trembled. Achilles reached up and gripped my hand, our fingers twining together and holding fast to each other. He bared down on me, taking me all the way to the back of his throat, and pushed his fingers deeper into me, as far as they would go. After a moment, he added a third finger, and then the tip of a fourth. He dragged his lips up my cock and suckled at the head, tongue tracing along the veins. My head fell back, eyes drifting shut in pleasure.

The only warning I gave him was a soft, small cry, and when the sound left my mouth, Achilles pulled away before my seed could spill. His fingers left me too, and I clenched around nothing, feeling empty. Achilles gave me a teasing smile.

“I don’t think I’ve told you how much I like this,” he said, leaning down to kiss my belly. My tunic had come off at some point, and he was naked too. Achilles kissed a path up my stomach. “And this,” he said, biting at each of my nipples, smiling at the way my body arched. “And this.” He reached my mouth again, and I pulled him to me.

While we kissed and moved against each other, Achilles must have oiled himself, because then I felt him guide his cock to my entrance. I stiffened for a moment before he stroked his hands along my sides. My body melted into his. When he held me, I felt so cherished that I thought I might die with the swell of it in my heart.

I closed my eyes when he pressed himself slowly inside me. His hand came to my cheek, and I felt his thumb brush beneath my eye, his touch a soft caress.

“Patroclus,” he whispered reverently. “Look at me.”

I opened my eyes as he pushed deeper inside, and when I cried out, he pressed his lips to mine to drink the sound. It hurt, at first, but in another moment, I felt pleasure like I’d never known before. Achilles moved, and I moved with him, our bodies aligning perfectly. Perhaps we were meant to be together after all, if we fit so perfectly like this.

I remembered an old story Peleus had told us once. That when mankind was first born, each man had four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. Zeus cut them all in half, afraid of their power, and each half of the body that had once been whole spent their lives searching for the other, longing for the other half of them that would make them complete. The two halves were soulmates.

That was how I felt with Achilles in this moment: two bodies, become one.

“Patroclus,” Achilles said as he thrust deeper, and I looked at him in concern, holding his face between my hands. His brows were drawn together, half in pleasure, half in confusion. “Something is happening - ”

He looked down, and when I followed his gaze, I gasped. There was a knot growing at the base of his cock, a bulge that swelled and grew as Achilles pushed his cock deeper. His head dragged against a spot inside me that made me nearly delirious, hazy with pleasure: my vision faltered, and I threw my head back, clutching Achilles tighter.

He kept one hand in my hair, pushing the damp curls back from my forehead, while the other reached between us, and I felt his finger circle my rim. He did this until I opened enough to let him enter fully, the thick knot slipping inside me. When I whimpered, Achilles stopped moving, panic clear on his face.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, carefully stroking my cheek. I shook my head, though tears pricked my eyes at the thickness, the stretch I felt, the strange but comforting feeling of being filled with his cock. I felt warm and happy and content, my head spinning with it. So this was what it was like to mate. I wondered how it would have been different if I was a wolf like him.

“No,” I said, pulling his lips back to mine. “No, it does not hurt, keep going.” I begged him, arching my hips against him, and he moaned, burying his face in my neck. He bit me then, his teeth sharp against my skin.

“Patroclus,” he stuttered out my name, his arms tight around me. “I am - ” He gasped as he gave one last thrust of his hips, and then I felt him spilling inside me, the knot slowly deflating as his seed poured into me. There was more of it than I had expected, and my eyes fluttered shut as it filled me, as Achilles rubbed my belly, his palm warm against my skin. He licked the spot where he’d bitten me, and it was only now I noticed that he’d drawn blood. Strange. It had not even hurt.

He soothed the sting with his tongue, kissing the mark he had left on me. We stayed together like that, connected, unable to part, until finally his cock was able to slip out of me. The moment it was gone, I missed the weight of it inside me, keeping me warm, and I let out a sound that might have embarrassed me if Achilles hadn’t shuddered. I felt too full and sated to move, but I wanted to repay him - if he would let me, I wanted to make love to him, too.

Achilles planted soft, gentle kisses all across my neck, brushing his knuckles over my cheek. We were both panting heavily, our skin damp with sweat. He was looking at me in awe, his eyes glittering. When I asked him, “What?”, he smiled, bright as the noonday sun, and I flushed, though I grinned back at him. How I loved him. Even more now, if it was possible.

His seed spilled out of me in small rivulets when I moved, but Achilles reached down to place his fingers against me, to keep it there. I closed my eyes again. My limbs were jelly, as if I had fought a long battle. My heart pounded in my chest. And yet I felt calm. Relaxed. Content.

“I would have you inside me,” he whispered softly after some time of tracing idle patterns on my bare chest. We had been holding each other, sharing quiet kisses, simply looking our fill of each other, basking in what we had shared. Absently, Achilles would push his fingers in and out of my hole, and then spread his seed across my skin, marking me with his scent. He would rub it around my nipples, across my stomach, over the already sticky insides of my thighs, and then he would bring his fingers to my mouth and have me suck on them while he watched me. I did not say how much I enjoyed it. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes,” I told him, placing my hand over his heart. His face lit up again, and I laughed when he rolled on top of me. He straddled my thighs, my cock already hard again. Achilles pressed his finger into the slit and rubbed around my head, gathering the moisture that beaded at my tip and slicking me up with it. He bent forward and closed his mouth over the head, his tongue moving in a tantalizing circle, lips caressing me in an open-mouthed kiss. I shivered with pleasure, my body electrified. My hands went to his golden hair, and I thrust into his mouth, unable to control my own reaction. Achilles smiled around my cock and kissed the crown of it once more before he straightened. He bit his lip, and then he reached behind his back to prepare himself for me. His fingers were still slick, so he needed no oil.

I watched him, in awe at the changes on his face - his eyes fluttered shut, brows drawn together, lips parted as he moaned softly. I reached up to toy with his nipples, pink and perfect, reveling in the reaction it drew from him. He was so beautiful, in every way.

He began to move quicker, impatient, and then, without warning, he used his free hand to position my cock, lifting his hips above it. Before I could say his name, Achilles had sunk down onto me, slowly, bracing his hands against my chest. I gasped at the tight heat I felt, the pressure as he clenched around me. Achilles kissed me passionately, his tongue sliding like silk into my mouth.

“Patroclus.” He moaned my name, rolling his hips against me to push my cock deeper inside him. I gripped his hips, fingers digging into his sun-kissed skin. One of my hands crept along his side, brushing over his stomach before I took his cock in my fist. It was stiff again, leaking with want. I stroked him in the rhythm he liked, and he threw his head back, lifting his hips up and then back down repeatedly. His teeth grew sharper and his eyes glowed as his pleasure heightened and he began to growl and grunt, and I marveled at the sight. Even like this, he was radiant. 

I would not form a knot like he had, but I wanted to spill inside him still, and Achilles seemed to want that, as well. I felt humbled that he would let me.

He released first, white ropes of his desire spurting onto my hand and my chest. I stroked him through it, and even then, I did not release his cock until he was too sensitive to be touched, until he gave an animal whine when my fingers danced along his cock. I was not long in following him in my release; only a few moments later, I moaned his name, and I felt myself spill inside him. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, an expression of such pure pleasure on his face that I wanted to paint it and immortalize it forever.

He fell forward, laying on my chest, his seed sticky and warm between us. He shifted his hips slowly, content to keep me inside him. I felt his chest vibrating with a low, happy hum. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his head, our hearts beating in time with each other.

Eventually, when the high of our pleasure had subsided and we had both begun to drift off to sleep, I asked him a question.

“Will that happen every time we are together?” My voice was quiet, and when Achilles raised his head to look at me with an arched brow, I amended, “The - the knot, I mean.” I blushed. It was almost embarrassing how much I already craved it again, that heavy thickness inside me. Achilles smiled dazzlingly, tracing his fingers over my lips.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I hope so. You liked it, then?” He was smug, entirely too satisfied with himself, and I rolled my eyes.

“I loved it,” I told him, always honest with him. “And you? Did you like me inside you, even though I cannot - do that?”

Achilles laughed, eyes sparkling, and then he leaned forward to whisper softly in my ear. “Patroclus, I have known no greater pleasure than feeling your cock moving in me. I want it for the rest of my life. I want you. My mate.” His breath was warm against my neck, his teeth scraping my skin, and I shivered.

“You shall have me,” I whispered, stroking his hair. “Always, Achilles.”

I did not know how his future would change now that he was a wolf. I knew very little of the war that would come, the prophecy the gods had laid out for him. I did not know how our lives would proceed from here. But I knew this: we would be together. Until the very end.

Mates.

  


**Author's Note:**

> i'm really happy i was able to finish this and post it because i'm still working on several other long chapter fics, but i wanted to post a one shot to assure u guys i'm not dead and i will have more content for y'all soon


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